Mortality
by CrossRow
Summary: Bruce Wayne is the son the Hades and must deal with the offspring of other gods to restore the balance of justice and chaos. He will face many trials within the chapters through the teenage years and meet the love of his life, Selina Kyle and will face darkest of villains of the Nolanverse with a little Greek mythology twist. AU Bat & Cat.
1. Chapter 1

**Mortality  
**

** All characters belong to Christopher Nolan and DC Comics**

**Disclaimer : I do not own any of these characters or the names of the Greek gods used in this story.**

* * *

Throughout the centuries there has been a great war, rising in the realms of Olympus and chaos. Deals were forged by the deceiving shadows concealed within the depths of lies and truths.

Deals were forged by the deceiving shadows concealed within the depths of lies and truths. The brothers became enemies of bloodshed and malice. Followers and grief sliced through the realms, creating divisions between loyalty and power. Children were given birth into mortality for the protection from the hands of fate and the host of the uprising of eternal and mortal.

Two brothers, Zeus and Hades forged warfare against the other creating not simply dying, but also tear right through the interwoven tapestry of fate.

Centuries passed and Zeus fathered many children, while Hades the lord of the Underworld was left to prevail without an heir. Until one night that all altered when his love Kore or Persephone, daughterrDemeter, goddess of the harvest became with child.

The heir destined by the fate's to become a great warrior and a symbol for the arising battles of both realms and to overcome the evil that would be unleashed by the followers of fear, chaos and destruction.

The successor would become a shield for mortality but the child would also suffer a grief that will just fuel his ability.

* * *

It passed that night with screams of echoing in the darkening cavernous. Hades stood by the kindling fireplace of his vast library, his dark blue eyes staring at the restless flames twirling with the chilliness in the gentle wind.

Hidden discomfort became etched over his cut- rock features as he heard the shouts and cries of his wife blanketing through his fortress. Suddenly the stench of the toxic plume entered his nostrils. He scowled and felt the tension creak into his bones as the voice of his enemy billowed around him.

"What business do you have at this hour, brother?" he asked, pouring a deadly gaze into the icy blue eyes of his eldest brother. "Why have you come to infest your filth in my kingdom? Answer me!"

"The Fates predicted that your consort would deliver you a new heir this night," Zeus replied coldly, placing his hands behind his rear as he circulated round the table. "A prince that will be an asset to this warfare. They foretold that he would turn the greatest warrior with the forces of the dark. Dually, both you and I recognize that this war that has laid waste to our brotherhood will not stop unless there is a balance between chaos and society in both realms, brother."

"Hear this my mournful brother," The dark lord declared, he fiercely glared at his eldest sibling."My son never be apart of your deceiving war. He will remain hidden from you in this dark kingdom. You will never touch him."

"How predictable for you, speak those words to me," The eldest brother gritted his teeth, " Remember your place dear brother. I am the one that sent you to rot in this realm after father was defeated. I gave you control of life and death and made your work become unseen. This is how you repay me of threatening, me, your oldest brother because your son is not meant to be part of the battles we face every hour."

"How predictable for you to speak those words to me," The eldest brother gritted. " Remember your place dear brother. I am the one that sent you to rot in this realm after father was defeated. I gave you control of life and death and made your work become unseen. This is how you repay me of threatening, me, your oldest brother because your son is not meant to be part of battles we face every hour."

He regally circled in front of the dark overlord. "I am the one that afforded you the chance to wed Kore after you abducted her into your kingdom through deception. Now she is giving birth to your son. My nephew."

Kore's screaming grew louder as the audio of a infants cry broke through the traces of darkness.

"Get out of my kingdom, brother." The dark king demanded with a lethal snarl. Your presence is not welcomed in the eyes of my son. Be gone before make you leave." His dark blue eyes grew into black shadow. "Know this, if you ever come near my son... you will answer to the powers of the Underworld."

"I can understand that we will not part this encounter well," The eldest stiffened his bearded jaw. "I wanted to leave to the dark prince a blessing. Since you refuse my presence. If he comes into my realm. He will receive a punishing curse because of your betrayal to me. I will make Hecate morph him into a creature of darkness and death. A blinded ρόπαλο (bat)."

"How dare you use those devilish words against my son." The youngest snarled raising his hand to his brother as lashes of shadow whipped across his expression. "I never want you in my realm ever again."

"You can't keep him from his destiny. He will be a component of this war."

With a puff of smoke the eldest brother disappeared into the darkness.

"My master," Melinoë the servant went into the library and bowed her head with regard. " The young prince has entered this realm. Your wife waits for you in your bed chambers."

Hades nodded and quickly took in haste to the torch lit hall, until he got into the guarded chamber and picked up his majestic queen enclosing her arms instantly around small infant.

* * *

The dark haired queen of the Underworld, Kore looked down with loving hazel eyes at the little prince she'd been holding in her womb for the last nine months of their enduring war with Olympus. The child indeed had a full set of dark brown hair, and he gave up crying just long enough for his mother to obtain a serious facial expression at his face.

His cheeks were deliciously rich and vibrantly tinted with rose, his nose within the shape of aquiline arrow that Kore instantly recognized to belong to his father, the ruler of the dark realm. And so, as she took in the vision of his thin lips, the prince opened his eyes, looked directly up into her eyes and smiled.

It was blessing of pure splendor she had received, a reward for obeying her master's heart and deciding to become the queen as she accepted the king's hand in marriage and ruled this kingdom with him, but the thought of giving birth a child that shared some of her and some of his father brought grateful joy to her steady heart. She bade her mother could catch him at this moment of unconditional love-it was a single minute that she would treasure always.

The prince's eyes were stunning, shaped like his father's hooded with shadow, simply colored with the purity of hazel and metalic green. He already had the definition of his father's cut-stone features underneath the baby fat. Kore looked up at her husband with wonder dazzling in her eyes.

The dark lord was a breather away from her, his hand lying over his son's belly as his gaze met Kore's, and she never that a king that witness so much horror and death could look at her with so much concealed love glimmering in his gray-blue eyes.

It was a moment that she would treasure for eternity, his intense features fell into an onslaught of unspoken emotion that he couldn't contain, and his hand wrapped over the cloth that shielded over his son and hooked the young prince gently away from his wife's breasts and kept him tight against his chest. He is our greatest treasure," he narrowed his eyes downward. "We must chose his destiny. My brother will claim him as his solider if we don't..."

Kore furrowed her brow. "You're saying that we have to give up our son." She clenched her eyes shut. "I can never part with him, my lord."

"Neither can I, my dearest queen. We have no choice. I will not allow our son to endure this war. He deserves freedom from the captivity of bloodshed that as being forced upon us."

"It is excessively soon, for me to let him go." Kore choked out. Her tears rolled down her cheeks. The young prince started crying again, and his father bought him back into Kore's arms. She kissed her son on his flushed brow. " I am his mother. I deserve to raise him in this realm. I will not allow his love to be stolen from me." She turned her gaze away from her husband. "He is our son. No one else will have him."

"You're being selfish, my queen." He answered softly, "This choice is out of our hands. He must go to the mortal world. It's the only way he will preserve his freedom from the war."

He knelt down by her bedside and saw at his beautiful son, and then continued."I will execute everything in my power to restrain him from this, but I can't, not when the battles are rising and new armies of chaos are being forged."

Kore nuzzled her nose against her son's chubby cheek. "Then I respect you wish, my lord." she sobbed. "I will allow a mortal woman to raise him. But my heart will always beat of emptiness as I will watch him grow in that world."

She kissed her baby boy on the lips. "I love you, my son," she whispered and ripped off the pearl necklace from her statuette neck and placed it on his tiny body. "I will always be with you." She looked up at her husband with teary gaze. "You will find a good mortal family to raise our son?"

The dark lord looked down at Kore, a sudden fierceness in his eyes. "I will make sure he is safe from harms way. If any harm comes to him. I will drag their souls into the pits."

Kore nodded. "So will I, my lord."

* * *

When the news got around through the kingdom of the Underworld from a loyal spy that a mortal couple a doctor and his compassionate wife were not consecrated with a child, Hades entered the through the gateway into Gotham.

A dark city written with decay and malice. He could smell the sordid stench of fear and chaos seeping out of the shadows. He had collected many souls from his city, many of which were good mortals that murdered by desperate people and insanity. Some part of him, wanted to return his child back to his realm, but he knew that he couldn't let that pass.

He was unseen by mortal eyes, and elusive into the phantoms, he walked among the crowds of weary citizens looking through their blackening souls with his piercing eyes as he watched the vile coating of darkness on their bodies.

He was unseen by mortal eyes, and elusive into the shadows, he walked among the crowds of weary citizens looking through their blackening souls with his piercing eyes as he saw the vile coating of darkness on their bodies. He held on his slumbering son tightly against his chest, protecting him with demons that emerged from the alley, backdrops and subway tunnels. Finally, after hours of observing the city of which his son would be brought up, he found the Victorian Gothic like mansion hidden beneath the trees of the palisades. He stepped through the gates and walked down the long graveled driveway.

Within minutes, he stepped silently on the portico, and placed his son gently in front of the doorway. Snapping his fingers as white jumper covered the baby. He crouched down and stroked his finger through his son's thick wavy mass of hair. He pressed a kiss on the baby's forehead.

"You're going to grow up to the brave warrior in this world. I have no mortal gifts to give you, but I have a special one to bestow upon you my son." He pressed his hand gently on his body's head. "Whenever you are in danger turning into the shadows." He whispered to the tiny infant. "When you become one with the darkness, then you will master it, my son."

He turned his head and stared at the bats flying towards the dimming sun. "You won't remember me after this day... but know this you will always be loved."

The child opened his dark hazel eyes and looked around brightly before settling a still gaze on his father.

The dark lord slammed his eyes close tightly and bowed his mind downwards. "I will forever be with you, my son." He cleaned up back up and rang the bell. He looked downward at his son once more before disappearing into the darkness.

* * *

The massive oak door opened, exposing a young dark haired man dressed casually. He discovered a faint cooing sound and instantly snapped his eyes downward at the child smiling back at him. His heart swelled in his chest as he heard the footsteps of his wife behind him.

"Thomas, darling, what is it?" Martha called for her beaming husband, clothed in her cashmere bathrobe. She wrinkled her brows as Thomas bent his knees and cradled a little baby in his arms. "Is that a baby...?" she gasped aloud with a brilliant grin as her jaw dropped.

Thomas nodded to his wife with tears rolling down his face. "Yes. It's a boy." he smiled, looking down into the hazel eyes staring up at him as he watched the baby cracked a smile. Martha walked over to her husband and threaded her polished fingers through the baby's thick hair. "Someone must have bought him to us." He turned and met his wife's teary gaze. "We're going to be a family, Martha."

The child looked up at the people staring down at him with loving eyes. He softly yawned and lay his head against the mortal's chest. He felt the soothing heat of love shield over him, he floated into a content slumber.

The young couple stared at him with tears.

"He's perfect," Martha said, wiping the tears from her husbands eyes. "What are we going to name him?"

"Bruce." Thomas answered. "Bruce Wayne."

Martha smiled sweetly nudging the baby's rising belly before replying softly. "No. Bruce Thomas Wayne."

"Welcome to the Wayne family, Bruce." Thomas said closing the front door. "Welcome home, son."

* * *

Hidden in the shadows below the sloping willow tree, Hades stood glancing passively at the immense of the demesne of the Wayne family. He crossed his arms over his torso and lowered his head down, but then a warm presence brushed over him, the dark lord turned and found himself trapped in the gaze of a good servant, Alfred J Pennyworth who brought peace into his heart during the solemn moments of desolation.

He looked into the sparkling blue eyes of the old snow-white haired man walking forward to the iron gated area of the cemetery with a warm smile crossed over his wrinkled lips.

"I was wondering when you'd show yourself, mortal." the dark lord said with a whispering tone."Your services are needed in this realm. You will keep a steady watch on my son. Protect him with your life, Mr. Pennyworth."

"I promise I will protect him from any bloody danger," Alfred replied with an assuring gleam in his eyes. "What is the name of the family I am in service to, master?"

"Doctor Thomas and Martha Wayne. They are compassionate mortals and will love my son as much as I and Kore do." He walked closer, with haughty strides to the old Englishman. "My son's name is Bruce that is what the mortal parents have chosen to call him. He will have my power to control the darkness and my wife's heart."

Alfred nodded, "Then I will guard him with my life."

"Bruce must never know about me and the world that he is destined to reign. His abilities will start to arise when he arrives at manhood. You will instruct my son how to manipulate them and preserve him from unleashing darkness in this land.

"Zeus?" Alfred asked, "I thought Zeus enters this realm?"

Hades shook his head, grimly. "No. My brother is forbidden to enter this mortal realm. He can not harm Bruce unless he becomes a mortal himself. That is why I have sent my son to live here, away from the everything." He paused in his words and looked at the mansion for a moment as he spoke in a firm voice, "Bruce will also be protected by Athena. She will take the form of a mortal and guide him when he reaches a difficult path."

"Very good, my lord." Alfred replied, he turned his eyes away for a second. "How will I know..." He turned round with a befuddled expression as he noticed that Hades wasn't there. "Bloody hell, I hope the boy doesn't inherit that power."


	2. Chapter 2

**Mortality **

**-1-**

* * *

** Alfred Pennyworth's POV  
**

* * *

The stormy evening sky was a tarnished crimson. Blood was shed, bought forth by one hand pulling the trigger- two bullets.

Alfred Pennyworth found the young child, Bruce Wayne, the boy sat in the commissioner's office with his mortal father's garment, opera jacket cuddled over his rigid was sent to retrieve the kid and take him back to the Wayne family mansion. To protect from the evils of humankind that blanketed this city with fear and death.

_Grief._

An emotion that should lay barren in a child.

As protector of the new prince, Alfred made a vow to his mortal father and mother that he, Alfred J Pennyworth would protect the boy and shield him from his existence of the Underworld.

The boy wasn't alone during the shattering hour, a man of nobility and true statement, James Gordon knelt beside him, securing him in a faint whisper that his creation had not been terminated. Hope still prevailed.

_A fool's hope._

Then, as the old Englishman stepped into the position of Commissioner Carl Loeb, he broke in his strides and dared himself to stare into those teary hazel eyes clouded by confusion and vengeance. Alfred saw the dark shroud over the boy's fair complexion, fear and anger took hold of him and diminished the one thing he desired to protect. The child's innocence.

_Despair will create a something dark, unstoppable for revenge. Something that will destroy the human existence. A monster._

Alfred tentatively stepped closer, watching Jim Gordon make his leave, he hunkered down beside the eight year old.

The same child he first heard his wailing calls echo through the halls of Wayne Manor. The flame of Bruce's innocence was no longer burning inside of him, he was lost by the delusion of mortal fear. Alfred looked into his hazel eyes, trapped by the hollow darkness in his steady gaze.

Alfred knew he had lost the boy forever, when his hazel chasms became harder and filled with rage. But he put a wrinkled hand on Bruce's shoulder, ready to take a few words of consolation. Alfred knew that if he mouthed the words etched on my own broken heart it would alone make him go down into the abysm.

He wanted to put his arms around him. He desired to tell Bruce everything was going to be okay. That he had nothing to fear.

The Englishman wanted to shield him from the truth about his parents' murder. Not those police officers. Me. He wanted him to feel secure, to dry his tears, and to lift him up in my arms. He wanted to carry him like his father did when he was wounded from falling down into the well.

Wiping my own tears, Alfred placed his hand along the boy's rounded cheek, he looked deep into the child's teary eyes and then lifted to his feet. He sensed the daunting presence of his father, Hades in the darkness and made a soft nod of his head as a heard a raspy voice whisper through him.

_Everything froze._

"Protect my son. For the souls of Thomas and Martha Wayne are safe."

Alfred turned slowly round, and laid off a black bat flapping his sharp wings on the Commissioner's desk

"A bloody bat?" he answered in a whisper, feeling a white-haired eyebrow arch up. "What does this have to do with Master Bruce?"

"My son will embrace this dark symbol when he faces of trials of justice. He will become what he fears to protect the souls of his city."

Hades vanished, leaving Alfred with the child.

Alfred held out his hand...

Bruce lifted his gaze, looking at his butler with soft and frightened hazel eyes. It broke his stern spirit.

Alfred scooped up the boy's trembling and cold body in substantial, warm arms, holding him against his chest, Bruce was too frail in emotion. And so, he paced swiftly through the doors, passing flashes of cameras and microphones. James Gordon cleared a way for him.

He, Alfred J Pennyworth carried the son of Hades in his arms.

He kept Bruce closest to his heart.

His protective blue eyes looked upwards at the dark sky, watching lightning streak through the swarms of darkness.

Zeus was furious.

Alfred knew there would be a great risk to protect Bruce Wayne from his all-powerful uncle. He was alone, carrying on his own fight in this mortal body, without any powers, weapons or guards. Hades will give him the strength to raise his son into manhood.

He is just a butler.

_A servant._

He will never replace Thomas Wayne. He will be a friend.

_Comfort._

As he felt the Bruce's heart pound against my chest, Alfred was ready to face the night,

_The Darkness._

* * *

He is just a butler.

A servant.

He will never replaced Thomas Wayne. I will be a friend.

Comfort.

As he felt Bruce's heart pound against my chest, Alfred was ready to face the night,

The Darkness.

* * *

**Bruce Wayne  
**

* * *

The autumn rain was his sole comfort, seventeen year old Bruce Wayne stood motionless, in front of the marble markers of his late parents, sheets of rain drench the dark shorten locks of his hair as he set his chiseled jaw hard and narrowed his fierce hazel eyes to the fading roses, looking out the pedals slowly depart to the soggy earth. Just like falling tears.

Bruce stood, his broad shoulders slouched by the tree, allowing the chilling wind buffet against the coattails of his black long overcoat. He felt the presence of something intimate and yet obscure in the twirling leaves, dancing gracefully against the engraved names of Thomas and Martha Wayne.

Penetrating hazel eyes hooded with shadows of remorse, looked intensely outward at the glimmers of faint sunlight caressing for the distant buildings.

They were just shapes in the gray mist. Bruce refused to stare longer than he was supposed to, for that city and the people shuddering from the corruption and malice blanketing the streets did not hold his parents in their hearts in minds. The city allowed, the good doctor and his wife to become ghosts in the hearts of the people.

Those names will never be forgotten, for they had become etched on his bruised heart.

Sorrow had been exhausted by wrath.

Sorrow had become like a fuel to make the creature of vengeance inside of him come alive.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, clenching his eyes shut. "It was my fault. My fault."

The cittering sound of a high pitched noise broke him from his despairing thoughts, Bruce lifted his chin and stared coldly at the small black shape gliding and fluttering in the rain.

"A bat," he growled, his smooth lips snarled up into a disgusted scowl.

The bat flew down and fell on the marker, its beady dark eyes looked at Bruce with stillness, the billionaire prince was amazed by the unexpected action of the tiny nocturnal creature. He blanched a step back, crossing his solid arms over his torso.

Bruce under a curtain of drenched side bangs, gave the bat a menacing and firm glare. He waved his hand. "Get away from me."

The bat nodded its tiny head and flapped its wings, he responded to Bruce's bellowing voice and immediately melted in the rainwater.

The young Wayne heir shook his mind with incredulity. "Weird," he grunted out, looking down at his gloved hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Mortality **

**-Chapter 3-**

* * *

**Kore & Hades  
**

* * *

As the ghostly knells chimed, slate walls of the bed chamber captured their echoes in the darkness. Soft light from candles flickered over a empty cradle filled with red silk near the bedside. Queen Kore stood motionless with her head pointed downward as her hand stroked over the rich silk. Her somber hazel eyes filled with harden tears of a grieving mother and heart shattered into bits as she raised the material tight against her chest. Kore breathed in the lingering scent of her baby boy as she closed her eyes shut.

Thinking of the gentle cries of her son that were borne to her ears when she took his little body near to her bosom. Her eyes gazed into his hazel ones as she rubbed a soothing touch over his rounded stomach. His fingers grasped the curls of her beautiful dark hair as his eyes closed to the steadiness of her breath. She pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead, knowing that after that moment the baby would depart from her protective embrace and be held in another woman's arms. A mortal.

For seventeen years, the Queen of the Underworld watched her son, Bruce Wayne. The child she carried within her womb grow in the mortal realm. Each day his razor sharp and chiseled features changed more like his father.

During the hardships of her pregnancy, Kore allowed the gods set their hands on her womb, bestowing her son with gifts of strength, wisdom and youth.

Bruce inherited his strong jaw of his uncle, Poseidon. Wavy and beautiful chestnut locks of Demeter, his grandmother. Incredibly soft lips that held a perfect kiss from his aunt, Aphrodite.

His severely and determined hazel embers were the color of Kore's eyes. And the hooded shape and darkness of his father, Hades.

Kore dropped the silk garment on the floor and clenched her jaw. Closing her eyes she said, " Your dark presence can never hide from me." She turned around to the way of the huge wooden doors and found Hades standing there with his implements of war crossed over his armored torso. "I sense something is on your mind, my lord." She stated, glowering." You're acting more restrictive with your spirits than I have ever thought of seeing you." Before he went to the cradle, Kore met him tentatively half way.

Hands gave her an intense look, only ended up moving up her hand. He swept his lips over her knuckles.

"I do not want you to dread for my feelings, my love. My body has been stirring to embrace our son, I know I can never reveal himself to him." He settled his blue eyes on the cradle. "I can only watch him grow in the shadows of the mortal realm."

"Do you wish you could ask the Fates to restitch the tapestry of our son's life?" she placed her hand on his chest. "Would that create chaos in both realms?"

"Kore, what has been done can never be restitch on Bruce's tapestry." He replied, at his face shadow by a shadowy aura. "The souls of my mortal parents are safe in Elysium."

Narrowing her hazel eyes, Kore felt her chest clench. "Why did you allow their souls to be taken? Bruce was too young to lose their love. You should have the Fates spare their souls."

"It was not in my power to protect their souls, my love," Hades answered with a fierce scowl edging on his lips. Running his hand through her dark curls, she added. "The Fates cut the threads of Thomas and Martha Wayne's life forces I am the keeper of the dead not death itself."

"Grief," Kore said with a snarl. Backing away from him, she turned her back and bent down to pick up the red silk off the stone floor. "You have bestowed our son with grief." she added, clamping her eyes shut. "Did you not think that he had gained a mortal heart? Bruce was never blessed by Aphrodite with a cold heart like yours. You have made my baby's soul hollow with coldness because of your choices." She mashed her teeth into her lip, feeling a pulsing coldness slice through her.

Hades sighed with a disgruntled breath. "Bruce is not the only that grieves," he revealed, clenching a hand into a fist. "Do you think I wanted my son to live with the mortals? To watch another father, shelter him with love, something I can never give him."

He tore his eyes away from his wife. "I did what I had to do, Kore. Bruce deserves to make his own choices. To fail in the battles and then rise again. Don't you understand, my love. I gave our son freedom."

Kore crossed her arms over her heaving chest, "I cannot bear him to taste despair, my lord. I am his mother, that mortal Martha Wayne meant nothing to him!" She yelled, through her fresh tears. "I am not a shadow or a bat that you morph into to watch over him. He needs my arms around him, not the wings of a monster."

"You are letting your anger consume you, Kore," he grumbled.

"Anger?" she echoed with a hiss, hazel daggers glaring. "I am beyond angry."

"This is not your place to allow mortal emotions to drift through you." He tore back, with a daunting rasp."The Fates rule over the people. They hold each life in their hands and decide the outcomes of decisions. They allowed me to choose the mortals as our son's parents, but nothing in that realm is permanent not even a father's promise."

While Kore wiped away her tears, she stated, " A promise that was never invented by your lips. Only the mouth of your loyal servant, Alfred Pennyworth."

"Hold your tongue, daughter of Demeter." Hades bellowed with vehemence, Kore felt a shiver trail along her spine. "You speak venom of jealous mortal not the words of the Queen whose duty is to protect the essence of this very real. My kingdom."

" A kingdom our son will never be a part of," she snapped."If you held any love for Bruce, you would have spent on him everything instead of cipher in that forsaken place."

Kore then turned her back and steered for the corridor, and Hades blocked her way with his hand held out to her shoulder. "Bruce will have everything once he comes back to the Underworld, when he really embraces his powers and saves all of the souls of Gotham."

" That is the only way we can have him back?" She stiffened her jaw. "He has to save the numbered lives the Fates will unravel the threads?"

Hades looked down and nodded. "He must become something he will not believe himself to be, my love." he said heavily, trying to keep strong composure. "A hero that will endure many trials."

"Trials, my lord?" Kore asked, hesitantly. "I do not wish for Bruce to endure more death."

"The tragic lost of the Wayne's souls will mold Bruce into being a great warrior of shadows. He will suffer and also have victorious rewards during his mortal years of manhood."

Kore narrowed her eyes. "Is this what the Fate's foresee or you?"

Hades let out a deep growl, he looked enormous and dangerous as a dark aura pulsed around his body. Then, with a quick blink, his arm enclosed around her back and he pulled her against him, and she struggled within his grasp as he held her wrists down.

"There is already a war in the cosmos." he spoke hot breath against her ear. "We do not need one in here."

"Your tone is same one you used to lure me in your realm." she hissed. "To seal me away from my mother."

"That is why the mortal world has winter." he rasped, moving the strands of hair off her shoulders. "Your beauty belongs to me."

"I wonder if Bruce will be a good dancer like his father," she said in a low purr, turning into his body. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Only if he finds the right partner." Hades answered, framing her face with his hands, and then they began to dance.

Kore felt her thoughts slipping as his lips gently caressed softly down her neck, his arm dipped her and took her as his mouth devoured over her pulse point as he danced with her. Even as his knuckles rubbed the center of her back Kore remained frozen against the warmth of his torso.

On the spur of the moment, he gripped her curves and twirled her about until her lithe body collided with his chest, like it was melting iron. She promptly reacted to the smoldering heat radiating off his muscles. One of his hands slowly stroked through the gentleness of her hair while the other roamed down the curvature of her hip and gripped her thigh pulling her leg pull to his side. Kore closed her eyes when his soft lips dragged over her neck, jaw and down to her kiss leaving fire in their wake.

"Why do I have trouble staying angry at you?" she read, breath hitching.

"My lips consume all negativity, my love." he answered with a gruff whisper. Kore gasped as he shot her a wolfish look in his downcast blue eyes. She felt herself slowly melt into his body as he drew her tight and brushed a kiss along her mouths and she felt his hand grasp the long locks of her hair as he deepened into their kiss. Kore steadied herself in his cover and allowed as the shadows obscured over their impassioned bodies.

* * *

**Bruce Wayne**

* * *

"Master Bruce, is everything alright sir?"

Bruce scowled and looked into the scuffed up and grimy mirror of the boy's bathroom. His palms were pressed against the bowl of the sink as blood leaked from his lips. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. He ignored the soft knocks of his worried butler and stared intently into his reflection.

His vicious hazel eyes glared back at him with harden guilt. His razor-edge cheeks were tensed and bruised with imprints of knuckles from his attackers, and his chestnut hair was long, tousled which covered the nape of his neck. This was a rebellious look for him, but one that made a statement, he thought. He narrowed his eyes down to the blood stains of his school's uniform, and instantly pulled the jacket off and threw it to the floor. A frustrated growl escaped from his fastened lips as he turned the taps and splashed cold water on his battered face.

The door opened, Alfred stepped inside with a displeasing look etched over his wrinkled features. "You're becoming foolhardy young man." He berated with a raised voice. "Picking fights with other classmates just so you could prove something of yourself."

"I wasn't trying to prove anything, Alfred." Bruce replied, sourly.

"What would you call that?" Alfred shot back, his hand pointing at the blood on the young man's uniform.

Bruce shrugged. "A damn good fight."

"The headmaster wants to suspend you from your classes, Master Bruce." Alfred tore his blue eyes away from him. "You displayed a poor example to this school and to your father's name."

"My father," Bruce laughed with an edge of despondency. "Who cares anymore."

"I care," Alfred blocked his path. "I don't want you to destroy the Wayne legacy through your harden anger."

Bruce stiffened his lips into a thin line, his jaw twitched. "Sometimes I often wonder if my parents love was real, Alfred."

"Take those bloody words back, Master Bruce." Alfred said with firmness in his voice. "You don't know what you're talking about. Your parents loved you with all their hearts and they would hate to see you like this stubborn and reckless boy your turning into because of grief."

Bruce clenched his jaw hard, and shoved passed Alfred with his shoulder grazing against the butler's arm.

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't a Wayne at all." He said with a deep snarl cutting through air.

Alfred stood motionless, watching with teary eyes the seventeen year old disappear from his view.

"If only you knew that truth, Master Bruce." he whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Mortality **

**-Chapter 4-**

* * *

**Selene**

* * *

As the moonlight appeared, the light became a reflection in murky puddles. Darkness crept over clusters of apartment buildings and inhabited alleys of Old Town. Sidewalks were slick with the glaze of fresh rain as headlights from passing cars shone over a back alley leading to a run-down section of housing projects. A fire escape made of wooden steps led up to a dim glow of light from a bedroom window. A pair of concealed eyes settled its gaze on that stairway. It was welcoming against the darkness as the slender figure slowly moved in between parked cars, arms cradling a small cooing bundle protectively as the moon shone over the bottom step of the stairs.

The slender figure moved cautiously in the obscurity on a heartbeat, sleek and swift as a cat. Her curvaceous body was covered with a black cloak hiding her ghostly pale features, accentuating the mystery her dark eyes captured around her elusive presence. Like her body, her long legs were covered- in black boots with a razor edged heel that cut through flesh swift and fast as a knife. Her sharp eyes were the main feature that held her celestial power behind the depth of shadow and steel-brown.

At the stairs, the reluctant trespasser Selene stopped and when her eyes fell on the bundle nestled in her arms, a single tear strayed from her eyes, making her chest tighten and watery orbs remorseful with a piercing but tender gaze. Her rigid form crouched down as she rocked the infant girl gently. She felt the tears' wet sharpness on her cheeks, as beautiful strands of dark hair fell into her eyes.

When she looked at the baby that would one day blossom into a beautiful and fierce young warrior, there seemed to be no parting from her. How she wished it could be so.

"You're so gorgeous, my daughter." She half-whispered.

The baby was a rare gem to the mortal realm, blessed by Aphrodite with beauty. Flawless skin almost porcelain, with full lips and stunning, large eyes colored a mixture of fire and autumn that molded into a brilliant depth of caramel. The baby's lips were the color of a rose, but her mother saw the sly smirk already forming on her delicate babbling mouth. Finally, the thick locks of hair enriched with gloss bestowed by the goddess of love.

"I love you. I love you so much, my Selina."

Selene rubbed her hand over the baby's belly and spoke with a cracking voice. "You won't remember me after this night." She fell into an onslaught of tears and emotions that would have marked her as a mortal in the eyes of Olympus, and she pressed her soft lips tentatively to her daughter's head. "I will always be with you, guiding light through the dark path you will walk."

Gently she lowered Selina on the steps, feeling her emotions on the edge. Selina started to cry again, and she lowered her lips down and pressed a loving kiss on her baby's cheek and breathed in the scent of her daughter, a precious gift she carried through the hardships of pregnancy after spending nine months in the mortal realm with a handsome Italian man she met on the shores of Florence.

"Be brave, my little jewel," she choked out, lifting her tear-filled eyes to the aura of the moonlight. "You're going to be safe in mortal hands, my daughter." She cupped her hand against Selina's rosy cheek and looked down at the crying infant, a blessing she didn't deserve, but would cherish and love and protect her the way that mortal mothers she'd observed did to their children. Selina was her greatest treasure.

After settling down her daughter with a gentle Greek lullaby, Selene removed a cat shape pendant from her neck and placed it on Selina's belly. "This is my blessing to you, daughter of the moon. May you grow into a beautiful warrior, and own the night as the cat does in the dark."

In saying those words, a beautiful cat named Isis appeared from the shadows, and curled her sleek ebony furred body against the swaddled infant. Her golden eyes glared up at Selene and gave the goddess a faint nod, and a promise to protect the baby with her nine lives.

Selene pressed one last kiss on her daughter's forehead, "I will always be with you, my Selina."

As the balcony door opened, the goddess of the moon vanished into the night. A young, twenty-three year woman named Maria, Kyle descended down the steps and widened her green eyes at the sight of a crying dark haired baby girl jerking her tiny body against velvet silk.

Maria quickly moved to the last step and scooped the baby in her arms, as a cast of moonlight shone over Selina's face. The young woman smiled and wrapped her arms around the baby. "Don't worry, little one. I'll protect you." She climbed up the stairs, and looked at the name etched on the pendant, whispering out the child's new name. "Selina Maria Kyle."

Isis jumped on the railing, and climbed to the window as she curled her body against the glass and watched with her steady golden eyes Selina being embraced by her new parents. Brain and Maria.

* * *

**Selina Kyle**

* * *

-Present-

"Come on Isis!"

Isis was running beside fourteen -year- old Selina Kyle down a litter filled alley, her black paws sloshing in the puddles. They paused at a corner, half-way home now, Selina was clutching a small bag that contained fine jewelry to finance her living expenses for a few months, including a search to find a suitable dwelling other than a boarded up theater which housed her growing collection of antiquities and other spoils from raided penthouses and window shops.

"That was close." The child panted out a breath, her back pressed against the wall. "Enjoyable."

Selina cautiously checked the alley before moving to the stairway, her small figure moving in the shadow, stealthy, sleek, and alert as her pet cat.

Her tiny, slender body was covered in a black hooded sweater and frayed jeans that ended at the heel of her waterproof boots, dampening coldness against her socks. Like her gymnast body, the shape of her brown eyes was outlined by black makeup giving her a mysterious and dark look. Auburn hair was tied in a messy ponytail that was held together with a rubber band. Turning her head, the elusive child checked her surroundings, and when her eyes fell to the flashes of red light from the patrol cruiser driving slowly in front of the alley, a daring glint appeared in the depth of her eyes, making her large orbs edgy with sharp and brazen glee. Staring at the searchlight reflecting over the walls, she smiled. Her dangerous red lips curved into a sly grin as she slipped her bag of treasures in a pocket.

"Suckers," she giggled out, smiling with defiance.

* * *

**Bruce Wayne**

* * *

When late afternoon neared, the heavy downpour left lines of water sloping down the glass of the large windows in the main foyer. Bruce sat motionless in the darkness as it enveloped his slender body, his penetrating hazel eyes edged with a restless glare. He felt the edges of his lips alter into a scowl, as the hollow coldness of guilt ran through his hardened bones. A dull ache as he lowered his head and curled his knees against his chest. He clenched his jaw and settled a hooded gaze on the windows, staring at a black Rolls Royce parked in the front of the mansion.

He watched Alfred emerge from the driver's seat, the old Englishman sloshed his way through the trails of puddles, holding plastic bags and climbing the steps. Bruce stood up and pressed his lean frame against the stair railing, folding his broad arms over his torso and waiting in silence, listening to Alfred open the door and step on the tile with his drenched shoes.

"Good afternoon, Master Bruce" Alfred began, looking at the sullen teenage Wayne heir. "It's nice to see that you're out of bed early."

He looked at Bruce with a twinkle in his wintery blue eyes as the heavy door closed behind him, the sound echoing through the empty chambers of the lower level of the mansion. With his water logged black trench coat, slacks, and soaked shoes he walked over to the table and lightly smiled down at the bags of candy and chocolate bars before he continued. "The bloody weather is getting worse by the hour. I dread that Veeland's costume party might be canceled if the rain keeps up, sir."

"Not likely." Bruce replied, looking at his butler behind a curtain of chestnut bangs that were parted enough to reveal half of his deep-set brow. "I really don't understand why you make this night such a big deal, Alfred."

"Don't you remember when you were a boy, Master Bruce?" Alfred reminded the young man, looking at Bruce inching up the stairwell. "You used to love playing and dress up, to pretend you were something else with your father."

"Dressing up as a vampire or a witch is a waste of time." Bruce snorted sourly. His lips set in a fierce scowl. "You won't catch me wearing a ridiculous costume during the night hours, Alfred."

"Will you at least try to pretend to have fun, Master Bruce." Alfred replied, throwing the teenager a chocolate bar. "You never know, sir, you might enjoy it."

Bruce glared at Alfred. Calmly and coldly, he spoke in a gravelly voice that sounded like his father. His real father, Hades.

"Stop worrying about my life, Alfred."

The butler nodded, "Very well. I will leave you in the darkness." He slumped his soaked shoulders. "Since that's where you're mostly been hiding."

Bruce growled, turned his back to Alfred, and marched up the stairs.


	5. Chapter 5

**Mortality **

**-Chapter 5-**

* * *

**Eris**

* * *

Inside the darkness, screams of madness echoed in the dim torchlight. A slender ghostly figure moved in shadow on the steps of a empty throne, seductive, devious and beautiful. Her pale skinned body was covered with a purple gown bare at the shoulders that fitted over her curves like a layer of skin, accentuating her dangerous figure in way that was almost like a mist over her.

Raven strands of hair cascaded as waves of velvet moving with the sway of her hips. Her eyes black as shadow with swirls of crimson, cold and calculating when her gaze fell to the stone seat of an ancient kingdom turned to ruin by her hands and lust for destruction. A glint of malice appeared in the depth of her eyes, getting the black orbs darken with a spiteful but purposeful thought.

Tapping her long nightshade nails, Eris turned on the step and narrowed a changeless gaze to her son. A savage smile pulled on her black lips with mirth."You pull out one little thread and watch everything unravel into glorious chaos." she hissed, squeezing her hand into a fist. "Observe this realm my son, for this will be the masterpiece I will mold once the cosmos unleash Pardora's box from the pit of Tartus."

Eris descended from the stairs, and kept her eyes lock on her son. A frail child dressed in purple garment with a permanent marred grin carved into his face by his mother's own blade. He was her greatest creation, fathered by no mortal only a worthless demon she enslaved and raise in the darkness of her realm, immune to lust of bloodshed, anarchy and discord.

"Chaos is power that mortal souls harvest, murder, manipulations and hate. Perfect amount of it pouring in the streets of under my reign."

The boy glared at his mother with hollow eyes. "Keep talking, mama," he rubbed his hands with glee.

"Do you know why I created you?" She asked, circling around him. "Your soul purpose is to enter the mortal realm and create chaos by destroying lives, burning cities and turning good mortals into monsters. You were breed to keep anarchy alive in the heart of worthless cities that follow the laws of Themis." Her face darkened as venom poured from her lips. She placed her hand on his shoulder, twisting him to meet her stare. "All it takes is one thread to sliced off and then everything tears to pieces."

He swayed his tongue over the grotesque scars, "When can I leave?" he asked, urging to break loose from his mother's realm. "I'm like a dog chasing cars...I need you to let me off the leash." He began to laugh an eerie crackle that made a smile appear on her face.

"Soon my son," she answered with a fierce growl. "Once everything comes into place, Themis will have believed that the mortals have served her laws and ended strife." she hummed a chuckle. "The goddess of Justice will think victory is in her hands, but really I've been just waiting for the moment to strike the heart of the city she is most aware of because we all know justice is blind."

"Where is this delicious city, mama?" he asked, eyes gleaming with lustful carnage.

Eris opened her hand, making a golden fruit appear, squeezing the juice out of it as the liquid turned into blood.

"Gotham."

The boy's face darkened with a Cheshire grin, laughing out the city's name. "Gotham."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

**Bruce Wayne**

* * *

When Bruce arrived at Wayne Manor after biking, five miles, he entered through the servants' door, hoping to avoid another lecture from Alfred he dashed through the kitchen with puddles forming behind him. After grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he moved swiftly into the hallway with a the edges of his lips altering a smug grin. He was about to turn the corner, that will lead him to the stairwell when the sound of footfalls made his entire body freeze as the towering shadow of his butler concealed his own.

"Good afternoon, Master Bruce." Alfred said with a firm voice. The young Wayne heir turned around, the soles of his running shoes sneaked on the hardwood floor. "Care to explain why you left a bloody mess all over the entire mansion?"

Looking down, Bruce glared at the puddles, he shrugged his waterlogged clothing and answered with hard words. "The maids will clean it up, Alfred."

The old Englishman glared down at him with concern blue eyes, searing right through Bruce. "That is not the point, Master Bruce. You left the manor's premises without telling me. What if something happened to you? Did you think about that when you decided to have a little afternoon adventure?"

Bruce set his jaw hard, crossed his arms over his the stiff muscles of his torso, "I need you to quit worrying about me, Alfred." he scolded his words at the aging butler. "I'm not a child anymore, I don't need you to be there to clean up the scrapes on my knees when I fall. I can handle everything on my own."

"You're not a man yet, Master Bruce," Alfred replied, with a weary gaze. "You have much to learn about responsibilities. I'm not talking about taking off your soaked footwear when you enter the kitchen. I'm talking about things that matter for your future."

"I don't care about my future, Alfred." Bruce scoffed, pursing his lips sourly. "It wasn't mine to begin with, anyway."

"That's not true," Alfred's voice raised, pointing a finger at the bitter teenager. "Your father left everything in his name to you."

"You mean this damn museum," Bruce gestured his arms around him, snarling his lips into a scowl. "The stupid train that connects to Wayne Tower."

Alfred stiffened his lip, "Don't you use that tone with me, young man."

Bruce took a moment before he spoke again. "Why not?" he questioned with a ravenous gaze, using cold words. "You're not my father."

Alfred let out a despairing sigh. The teenager's brows furrowed, but he kept his posture firm. The butler turned away from him, and Bruce half-whispered, "Alfred, I didn't mean..."

"I know, Master Bruce," Alfred muttered, fighting against threatening tears building in his eyes. "I cannot blame you for your actions because I know that you still grieve for their lost."

"It still hurts," Bruce revealed sternly, hanging his head down. "I try to conceal it, Alfred. The pain never leaves."

Alfred stepped closer, with tentative steps. " I'm proud of you, Master Bruce," he looked down into the teen's hazel eyes. "You even more of a brave young man than I expected you to be," he paused in his words, placed a firm hand on Bruce's shoulder. "We're going to get through this, together."

Bruce pulled away from him, steadying his eyes to the darkness.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred asked in a whisper.

The teenager's eyes turned pitch black for a moment, his intense stare captured all the shadows. He blinked vividly and tear his eyes away from the darkness. "Nothing." he gruffly replied, placing his hand on the stair railing. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Alfred insisted, feeling a harrowing dread erupt within him.

Bruce moved to the bottom step, his jaw was set hard and his tone perplexed as he replied, "Sometimes I feel like I don't belong here." He settled his intense glare, searching in Alfred's eyes. "That I don't belong anywhere."

Alfred arched a white brow, "What makes you think of such nonsense?"

"I have nightmares," Bruce exhaled out a breath he was holding, voice hesitated. "Memories of someplace dark and somewhat familiar."

Alfred lowered his eyes, slightly down, " They're just bad dreams, Master Bruce. Nothing to worry about."

Bruce looked at his butler with his hazel embers, burning for answers. Alfred's body shifted uncomfortably under his changeless, dark stare. "Why do I feel so dead?" he asked, lips fastened into a sullen frown. "Lost?"

"You're going through changeless," Alfred deliberately stated, tension ripping in his body. "It's all a part of growing up, Master Bruce. Every young man goes through these changes."

"I have a feeling," Bruce looked down at his hand, staring intently transfixed at blackish aura pulsing from his fingers. "I'm going through a lot, Alfred." He lifted his piercing eyes, eyed the butler with a haunted look, Alfred watched with a bewilderment gleam in his blue eyes. The fair features of Bruce Wayne darkened into something fierce and terrifying.

Alfred said nothing. He said nothing as he watched Bruce climb up the stairs with a cloak of dread shrouding over his slender body and he thought he saw darkness pierce from his young charge's threatening gaze, but he tore his eyes away when Bruce glared down at him from the top steps.

"It's happening too soon," he whispered, knowing Bruce's powers were increasing. He began to walk somberly down at the hall, feeling his heart clench within the depths of his chest as he felt a coldness in the air. "He's not really facing the challenges in the darkness, my lord."

"Once my son embraces his fear, he will have full control of his powers." the voice of Hades echoed in the butler's ears. "Have patience with him, Alfred, he needs your guidance for the hardships to come once he reaches his years of manhood."

Alfred nodded, his lips set themselves in a confident grin. "I haven't given up on him, my lord." he breathed out. "I never will."


	7. Chapter 7

-7-

* * *

**Kore and Aphrodite-Flashback**

* * *

Kore threw down the scarlet cloth that held the scent of her son, and then sat on the edge of her bed, with mother griefs shrouded over her ghostly pale features. She lowered her head into her shaking hands, and unleashing the tears of concealed sorrow, making them follow and splash on the black slate floor.

"Why?" she screamed, feeling desolation in her body, "Bruce is my son. Not a worthless mortal's treasure to embrace." She clenched her teeth, tight and curled her fingers in fist under the skin underneath her knuckles turned white. She felt barren without the softness of her child brushing against her chest. "Her love is not real to love that coursing in my veins."

"There are many forms of love in the moral realm," the voice of Aphrodite soothed her raging heart. The goddess of love, stepped tentatively forward, closing the distance between her and the daughter of Demeter, blue-lavender eyes displayed unmistakable warm to the despairing the Queen of the Underworld. "Martha Wayne will never replace the love that you have given to your son, this mortal I that watch in secret cherishes Bruce as if he was carried inside her womb."

"Not helping," Kore growled, gritting her teeth.

"You can not allow this grief to consume you, Kore," Aphrodite said softly. "The actions of Bruce's departure from this realm was never your husband's intentions. Out of love in his black heart, Hades gave your son freedom from the arising war forming in the cosmos and away from the eyes of Zeus."

Kore lifted her hazel eyes, allowing Aphrodite to see the harden anger welled within her darken gaze. "I want my son back in my arms...I want to be the one that holds him one he's afraid and tell him how much I love him. Instead of this mortal, Martha Wayne."

Aphrodite sighed, she brushed her hand over Kore's black garment with a warm touch. "You're speaking words of darkness, allowing your suffering to unleash poison. Dare I say this words, you have began to use the very words of Eris."

"Eris," Kore repeated, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I will never sound like vile witch of chaos."

"Come with me, Kore," Aphrodite implored, stepping to the center of the floor. "I will show you something that will mend your broken heart."

Kore narrowed her eyes, "I wish not to return to the mortal realm."

"Not even when you see your son," Aphrodite's gleamed brightly as Kore met her gaze.

"You can allow this to happen?" Kora asked, with a puzzled look etched over her cut-stone features. "Hades said I was forbidden to enter the mortal realm and watch over my son."

Aphrodite shook her head, smiled and gestured a hand to Kore.

"I can not obey my love's rules." Kore replied, her face darkened by the promise.

"You are the mother of this child, you have every right to see him through your eyes and not through the glimmers of the fountain's essence of observing mortal lives." She pointed at the a golden fountain craved into the wall with trickling water dripping slowly into a basin. "It is time that you embrace the life of your son, Kore."

Kore nodded and rose from the bed, "I am grateful for such a gift you have bestowed on me, Aphrodite."

Aphrodite returned to the nod, "No this, Kora, Bruce can not see you or heard your voice. You are there to observe and not to embrace him."

Kora lowered her head, "I understand."

"Good," the goddess of love nodded, and snapped her fingers, pink gaze blanketed over their bodies.

Within seconds both goddess' vanished from the bed chamber of Hades and entered the mortal realm.

* * *

Somewhere, near the Mediterranean ocean, Kore dressed in a summer white dress walked along the shoreline, her bare toe sunk in the moist sand. Walking alone with Aphrodite guiding her. Her heart didn't ache. Remorse didn't flow in her veins. Her auburn hair capture essence of the sunlight beaming over her fair features, as she walked against a collection of shells, feeling the tide brush over her legs and listened to a child's laughter in the distance.

She raced towards a family, splashing in the rolling waves. Her heart raced and lips formed a gorgeous smile, she fought against the emptiness drifting inside her. She kept on running, and the next the time she looked towards the docks, she saw a father and son sitting on the hot sand.

A handsome man,rested on his back lifting a small dark-haired boy into the air with his solid arms. She recognized him as Doctor Thomas Wayne, and absorbed the detail of the young father, he was dressed in an opened white shirt and swimming trunks, dark hair drenched but she noticed a grace of smile on his chiseled features and that made her feel content. She stood motionless in the shallow waters, looking at the same boy, and listening to him laugh as his father kissed his forehead.

"Daddy," the boy giggled loudly, his hazel eyes shining. "Stop that."

Thomas laughed with a warm grin, half-whispering to his son's ear. " Let's build a sand castle, Bruce."

Kore fell to her knees as she stared at her son, heart clenched in her chest. "Bruce."

She reached out a hand, wishing to grasp her son but instead she just watched him play with his mortal father. He had grown into a beautiful little boy, fair complexion with freckles on his cheeks and his eyes were shimmering orbs of hazel with the darkness of his father's stare. She smiled, looking at the boy's mop of dark hair parted with a side bang. His gentle in his soul, and full of childish joy that made her feel a soothing touch of happiness brush over her wounded heart.

"My beautiful son," she said softly, feeling an onslaught of tears build in her eyes. " I love you so much, Bruce."

Bruce turned his head and looked out at the ocean, his hazel eyes searching, and he smiled. "I love you," he whispered unknowingly to her.

"He is a handsome little guy," Aphrodite said, standing behind Kore, dress in a pink sleeves dress." Bruce has a big heart and strong will."

Kore nodded, twisting her lips into a snug smirk, sensing that the goddess of love kept a secret from her. " I know you already have someone picked out for my son, goddess of love?"

"There is a certain half-blood destined to steal his heart." Aphrodite revealed, holding her hand out a pink pearl with a engrave of a crimson moon rolled over her palm. "Your pearls will bring them together when the time is right, Kore."

"My pearls are not for any ordinary half- mortal to wear." Kore replied, looking at her son building a sand castle with a plastic bucket. "She must share his world of darkness and of light."

Aphrodite curved her lips into a coy smirk, "Don't worry, this thief of hearts is nothing but ordinary."

Kore blew a gentle kiss to Bruce, "I will always be with you, my son." She gave Aphrodite a nod, and the disappeared in haze of rose.

Bruce straightened from the sand, and race to the water as Aphrodite dropped the pink pearl the sand. He reached down for it and held it to the sunlight with a curious gleam in his eyes and read out the name that appear on the small orb, "Selina."


	8. Chapter 8

**Mortality **

**-Chapter 8-**

* * *

**Bruce Wayne **

* * *

"It's time that you start investing in your future, Master Bruce." Alfred said, as he spread out peanut butter on a thick slice of whole grain toast. He looked down at his young charge, absorbing the appearance of shaggy, vibrant chestnut hair that touched well past his neck that gave a less-refined look along with a wrinkled black T-shirt and frayed jeans.

There was a hint of his birth mother, Kore in his cut-edged features and marquise hazel eyes from what Alfred remembered of the Greek goddess that went by the name of her birthright Persephone (_the maiden_), daughter of the goddess of the harvest Demeter. The young billionaire's hazel eyes were more metallic green mixed with golden flecks.

Alfred could see in plain sight how much he was splitting image of Kore, he had her beauty, fierceness and also her endearing heart. Bruce also had features of Hades, the darkness in his piercing gaze that could cut through the shadows like a knife and the rich, smooth baritone that changed with anger into a monstrous, raspy growl of his shadow side. Alfred knew there wasn't much time before the teenager would grasp the understanding of his powers from his immortal parents and used them either for saving lives or destroying them.

Bruce stared down at the full glass of orange juice, refusing to meet his butler's placated stare. For the pass three years, he had been berated by his caregiver to decide about what to do with his future. A future of running his family's company, Wayne Enterprises. Deep within the stirring abyss of grief he'd found himself falling into a delusion that everything his father build from the brick up would crumble to the ground if he took on the responsibility of becoming the Chief Excetivue Officer under the wing of William Earle.

"I'm not in the mood to talk about career options, Alfred." He told the Englishman flatly.

"You are the heir of the Wayne Enterprises. Your father left everything he owned in this world to you," Alfred placed the plate of toast down in front of his young charge before adding, "You need to stop being a stubborn boy and start taking the responsibilities of a man. Master Bruce."

Bruce rubbed at his eyes, something he always did when he was frustrated. He lowered his hand and gave Alfred a hard stare of hazel feeling a knot twist in his stomach as the butler narrowed his wintry blue eyes and hold his stare with a look of dismay.

"Maybe I don't want to run Wayne Enterprises, Alfred. I think it's fine without me." He grabbed the plate and moved to the lunch counter, releasing a deep, ragged sigh. He leaned his back on the counter and took a large bite of toast and Alfred stood in front of him, towering over the teenager with Bruce's face became a semblance of vexation.

"I believe that you will make the right choice when the time is right," Alfred said with a chipper smile. "You are capable of many things, Master Bruce. You need to grasp the right path or else you'll find yourself getting lost in the crossroads."

Bruce narrowed his darkened eyes, "Sometimes I feel like I'm already lost, Alfred." He set the plate down, and crossed his solid arms over his torso. "My father said to invest in Gotham and the people, but when I look in the streets I see nothing worth saving."

Alfred stepped forward and as he closed the distance behind them as the silence extended.

"Your father saw the need of saving Gotham. He invested most of time restoring homeless shelters and the hospital because he still believed in this great city, even though after his death most of the people he helped have forgotten about his legacy."

Bruce stared intently at his butler, his eyes searching in the wise chasms of his lifelong friend. "Then why I should help save Gotham? If the people in this city have made my father's works nonexistent." He stuffed his hands of his jeans and moved to the window with a passive gaze, looking at the family cemetery in the sheets of rain, and listened to the pebbles of droplets hit the glass.

Alfred walked over to the displaced teenager, placing his hand firmly on Bruce's shoulder. "I think you care about Gotham as much as your father, Master Bruce. But I also think you were meant to do great and noble works with your family's name, and one day you'll discover that truth. When you have a much healthier and less bloody stubborn outlet for your passions than most men in this city."

Bruce nodded silently, and then looked into Alfred's warm, proud eyes, "I'm just one man." he revealed his inner chagrin with an urge of scowl playing across his lips. "What can one person do save an entire city?"

"You'll surprise of what one man can do if he does it for the right reasons and not for the selfish intentions for his own indulgence."

Bruce slacked the edges of lips into a half smirk, he moved to the kitchen door, replying, "I'll think about it."

"Shall I fetch you a spot of tea to go with your brooding, Master Bruce?"

Bruce turned around and grinned warmly, "In the middle of the morning Alfred? Not very subtle."

Alfred returned the grin with a light chuckle, "Then a power shake? Much more subtle."

* * *

**Selina Kyle  
**

* * *

_Stray._

That one single word condemned her, sinking in the core of her mortality as she eluded her demons by always being two steps ahead of the game._ Better batter than to be broken, _her method of survival as she spent her long, restless nights searching for freedom and sometimes in the Gotham graveyard hurled close to the marble marker of her deceased mother, Maria.

M_ortui vivos docent. _The dead teach the living. She learned those phrases about her Latino child service worker when she was nine years old, after spending a three months of at Gotham General under critical condition after surviving a midnight stabbing at the East end docks and withstanding three blood transfusions_, __memento Mori-remember that you will die._**  
**

Tonight, she was prowling the streets. Her leather boots clicked on the slick asphalt, sloshed in puddles as Isis curled over her neck and purred softly. She was searching for shelter against the storm as thunder rolled in the distance, tattered book bag bumped over her back as she slowed down her pace as she stared a rundown building of the Old Town district.

It was old, crumbling brownstone, broken windows and foreboding to a weary traveler. Her dark mahogany colored eyes gleamed with a curiosity as she climbed up the stairs and quickly jumped over a ledge with practice, graceful ease of a gymnast. Her fingers gripped the brick as her boots dug into the wall, and then she hoisted herself up and slipped through the plastic wrapping over the window.

The black opened her golden eyes, and stared curiously at the scuffed up floors. Selina threaded her small fingers over the feline's drenched fur. "Yeah, I know it's the Ritz, but it's best we've got for now." She settled the cat down and explored the darkened dwelling. Rumbles of hunger growled in her stomach with discontentment as she pulled out a wrapped candy bar she managed to swipe from a convenience store, and slowly indulged on her splurge for the evening. "As long as we don't caught we'll hide here until the storm dies down."

Taking her last bite of chocolate, Selina tossed the wrapper on the floor and moved to the window, she lifted herself on the tattered leather seat, and tucked her scuffed up knees close to her chest, looking at the cat pendant around her neck that had her name etched in golden on flawless slate.

Isis jumped on the seat, rubbing her head against Selina's leg, comforting the teenager as Selina clenched the necklace into a fist. "One day, Isis, I find out who gave this to me. Then I will discover if I have a home place away from this shit hole."

Sighing a breath of frustration as her ghostly pale features darkened with malice, she took out a crumpled piece of a magazine clipping of a beautiful image of down Florence cafe and stared at the families sitting at tables, basking in the sun kiss afternoon with red flowers around every table.

A perfect dream to capture before she closed her eyes and entered through gates of her nightmares... Where the hissing demons waited for her with shackles in their claws.

_Time to live a life in a cage... Selina Kyle..._


	9. Chapter 9

**-Chapter 9-**

* * *

**Ares **

* * *

"You recognize the reason why you are a prisoner in this forsaken place?" the deity of war said, pacing his movements in the darkness of an underground prison, pure blue eyes blazed with carnage and malice as he appeared at his progeny with a stern expression written across his chiseled face. "In this realm all mortals are captives to the faults of pitiful hope. The very thing that gives them a glimmer of life when Hades claims their souls."

Ares looked down at his son, a young, bulky teenager with a bald head molded off scorch marks and lashes of enduring torture. He crouched down in front of the spring cot and glanced into the tender eyes of the giant he molded by his own hands in the bronze sands and sliced the his hand, allowing his blood to drip on the clay form of his child and lethal weapon of purging the realm of his sister Athena.

He listened to the rough breathing of the suffering boy, and snapped his lips into a ferocious frown,"You display weakness that makes me sick. I give strength of the earth titan to make you strong against our enemies and yet, you repay the gifts of immortality and brutally by showing affection of the enemies little fire that will soon fade once the darkness of her mother's sin consumes her worthless half-blooded soul."

I meant no harm of shielding little fire from the mitts of the unleashed wolves, father." the boy responded, wincing in pain as his scarred chest bled with new lesions on the majority of his body. "She needed a protector at the time from her cell door was opened. I could not stand and watch her get torn into pieces because of the starving mortals."

Ares clenched his bristled jaw hard, "I forbid you to talk to her, my son. You were born into this realm, mauled by the shadows of mortality's grim essence and trained with blood and sweat to become the ultimate warrior."

He narrowed his darkened eyes and issued a sharp exhale of frustration before going on, "I was not the one that the sentence you into this prison to rot, but sometimes for the greatness of power, whether in my own blood some sacrifices have to be taken in to restore the balance of justice in both realms."

The boy nodded, solemnly "I understand, father."

"I know Bane," Ares replied, putting his hand on his son's bicep, and then he faced into the blue globes of the adolescent. "One day you will have liberation out of this pit... You will regain power and control over your enemies through fear and death."

"I fear nothing, father," Bane said in defense. "Not even the light that is nothing but blinding to me."

Ares grinned, fire burned in his downcast eyes, "There have been rumors about Hade's son, Bruce Wayne. The one produced by mortal flesh in Gotham." He switched his stare to the rusted bars of the prison cell. "The heir of the Underworld is weak, but I fear his powers will increase once he embraces the darkness."

Bane crushed his knuckles against the pit wall as he jammed his fist into sharpen rocks, "Then I will destroy Gotham and make him suffer like a blind little bat. Once he feels the all the hope leaves his worthless body I will snap off his wings."

"It seems you have created your own enemy to wage war upon, my son," Ares sneered, looking at a small bat crawling under the cot. "An enemy that will become a bat."

Bane looked down at the winged creature, scooped it up in his large hands, stroking its black furry body, and then he squeezed the screeching mammal into his clenched fist, feeling the bones break against his fingers. "A flightless bat is a dead bat..." He threw the wounded to the dry ground and watch it helps crawl on its abdomen, before he stamped his boot on the animal. "Bruce Wayne son of Hades will feel his heart shatter once I break his spirit... And then his weakened body."

Ares looked down at the lifeless bat, and talked in a firm bellow, "Patience my son. All strategy of battle requires patience before the tempest." He moved out the cell, slamming the door behind him. "We will unleash a dark tempest over the domain of Hade's little bat."


	10. Chapter 10

**Mortality**

**-Chapter 10-**

* * *

**Bruce Wayne**

* * *

As dusk neared the fleeting sun left a canvas of red and gold across the horizon, Bruce was roaming the sidewalks of Old Gotham, a small cluster of a brownstone building including the boarded up Gotham Opera House.

His tall, sinewy body was hidden in a dark hooded sweatshirt and frayed jeans fitted snug over his slender waist.

He paced forward to the monorail stairway, when suddenly he paused in his footsteps as he saw a distinct scent of smoke lingering in the breeze. Methodically, he twisted round and settled his darkened stare down the street, noticing a glow of firelight reflecting off the windows of adjacent buildings surrounding the blaze.

Smoldering flames of the roaring inferno became captured in his shadowy hazel eyes, he stood motionless in the darkness of the alley and watched firefighters handle the rubber hoses and spraying high pressure of water in the centering of the window panes.

The glass set off as the flames got out of control hits as wires snapped from the poles and set off against the cement.

Bruce narrowed his eyes, blanching as he listened to the cries of a distressed mother across the street.

He shifted a glance and saw the young woman screaming frantically over her little girl as neighbors tried to calm her down.

Bruce glared at the fires and listened to the high pitch cries of the female parent, he broke up his lips and released a sharp exhale, as he felt the prompting in his chest to enter the inferno and rescue the little girl from the powerful flames...

Then he heard a familiar and yet unknown voice erupt from the shadows.

"The will to act, my son."

Without hesitation, Bruce pulled on his makeshift cowl over his handsome, cut-stone features and raced down the alleyway, finding an open window untouched by fires.

He vaulted upwards on a fire escape, his hands gripped the rung of a letter as he swung his legs and broke through the window. Rolling across the charred floorboards in a flurry of broken shards. He straightened to his knees, swiping a line of blood off his chin and then exhaled out a grunt a pain when his eyes landed on his shoulder.

A piece of glass penetrated through the material of his sweatshirt and dug deep into the muscle. Tightening his lips into a thin seam, and slamming his eyes shut, he managed to draw out the shard and toss it to the floor.

He ducked down, avoiding the blankets of smoke folding above him, and then aggressively kicked the unlocked down with a fierce, deep growl rumbling up his throat. E raced out into the hallway, coughing harshly as the toxic exhaust of gasoline came to his thickly lungs when he went down to the apartment, and listened to a child screaming helplessly.

"Hold on," he rasped out, preparing to kick the door. He delivered a roundhouse against the wood, and broke the door off the hinges. He entered the smoky apartment, his eyes searching for a girl. He crept forward to a closed, opened the doors and found a three year-old child huddling in a pile of clothing. Tears rolled down her face, as she tucked her head over the jackets and trembled."Hey," he said with a soft voice, running his fingers through her curly raven hair with a gentle caress. "Everything will be alright."

The child shook and then coughed, Bruce curved the edges of his lips into a trusting smile, he wrapped his arms around her little body, scooping her up as she nudged her face against his chest. She lifted her hand and placed it over his jaw, running a tiny finger along his soft lips. "You're not scary."

Bruce smirked warmly, "I seriously hope not." he replied, securing her in his broad arms.

He then moved quickly out back into the hallway, the flames were reaching to the higher levels. He shielded her head with his hand and raced to the room of which he came, and jumped out of the window, smacking his injured shoulder against the brick wall, and then dropped. He landed hard on his back, but she was still locked into his arms.

He reeled himself back up, taking hold of his breath, and then resolved the child on her feet, wiping the smudges of ash off her pale cheeks with his thumb."You're safe," he said, with a breathless voice, looking into her big brown eyes with his tender hazel ones. "Your mother is waiting for you across the street, little one." He winced out a hiss, feeling the sting of his wound starting to increase.**  
**

She looked up him with wondrous eyes, "Mommy says that angels can only save us... You're my angel."

At first his stubbornness wanted to resist, but when Bruce felt her little arms wrap round his neck, he didn't say anything, just stroked his hand over her spine and then stood up when he found out her mother cry out her name...

"Sara,"

"Mommy," the girl responded to the voice and raced to her mother with her arms wide open. Bruce stared at the bittersweet moment, nodded simply and then faded into the shadows.

"Who save you, sweetheart?" the woman sniffled, holding her daughter close to her heart.

"An angel, mommy." Sara replied, looking back down the alley for her elusive rescuer. " An angel in Gotham."


	11. Chapter 11

**Mortality **

**Chapter 11**

* * *

**Athena**

* * *

The skyline of Gotham lit though the encroaching shadows as a world of jewels. Hidden in the shadows of the city's radio tower a solitary figure crouched down on her leather heeled boots, her piercing ice blue eyes scanned over the clusters of skyscrapers, as she turned her vision into a hawk like sharpness and searched in the darkness of the alleys and rooftops as blue tinged light from the misty moon shone over her alabaster skin. Long raven strands brushed over her cut-stone features, red lips parted as she exhaled a steady breath and gloved hands gripped the cement as anger became temperance fuel within her.

Many nights the goddess spent her hours looking beyond the veils of mortally, and keeping a watchful gaze on the half-blood offspring of the gods. She was known to many as a protector among mortal life and a warrior that wielded her wisdom as her sword.

Tonight, Athena settled her blue daggers on the misty streets below, staring at the reflection amber light from corner street lamps as traffic rushed through the labyrinth of darkness.

She felt a familiar presence waft in the air, she methodically craned her neck and stared at the tall, dark figure towering over her shoulder.

Athena twitched her lips into an expression of annoyance and stiffened her jaw. "I am surprised you are not down there watching over your son, Hades." she shifted her eyes back to the streets. "I have been studying this world each night, understanding the concepts of human nature between fairness and punishment. The mortals that dwell within this diseased city lack the truth of justice and humanity. They allow fear to consume all emotions and hide from hope that I sense is fading each night."

Hades nodded a response, "Mortals grasp the error of their choices, Athena. Everything action they take into their own hands becomes either a victory or failure." He stepped closer glaring down at the streets with his cold and firm blue eyes before he added, "I have seen good men become monsters because of choice of gaining power and allowing it to control all emotions including love."

"Your son, Bruce Wayne does he carry this power inside of him like all mortals?" Athena asked, with a questionable gleam in her intense orbs. "He has witnessed tragedy and experience pain because the deaths of his mortal family. I watch over him occasionally when him roaming the streets," she smirked a little, "Sometimes I wonder if I am the boy's protector and I should make my presence known in mortal form?"

Hades unfastened his lips and replied, "Bruce carries the darkness of vengeance within him. It will become his power to take control of this city." He gestured his hand over the skyline. "Without proper guidance and wisdom my son will become a monster if he does not learn how to embrace his fear of bats and death and use it as a weapon to wield for Gotham's salvation."

Athena studied his grim expression intently, "You know that Bruce can only enter our realm once his soul leaves this world than he will become immortal." She narrowed her eyes, sensing a division of remorse within the god of the underworld. She straightened up on her heels, and placed her hand on his broad shoulder. "You can not hide the truth that lies within you from me, Hades. I know that you desire your son to return to Kore and you and that you feel unbalance with the sacrifice you made to ensure his freedom."

"Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice as his father?" Hades ejected, clenching his hand into a fist. "Thomas Wayne belongs in his heart. Not me because I have no heart."

"You allow yourself to believe your brother's lies," she spoke with firmness in her voice, watching the outline of his shoulders raise into a tense posture. "The falsehoods that forged by the deals of Chronos in the ages of the great battles still linger in the realms. We have become enemies to one another, and our children have paid the price of not embracing our truths because of the broken laws that strike us down."

"I love my son," Hades unveiled his confession with a menacing growl. His eyes darkened into a shade of smoldering malice which flowed within his veins. "I will fight with every breath I have, to give Bruce a good life beyond the darkness that Zeus has sentenced him to become a captive of in this realm."

Athena began to move to the ledge, she closed her eyes, feeling the updrafts rush over her body, "It won't be easy for Bruce, you that?"

Hades lowered his head, " All I ask of you, Athena is to watch over my son." He drew closer to her, placing his large hand firmly on her shoulder, and looked into her blue eyes with his sincere ones. "He is my heart."

She nodded, "I will guard him within the shadows, but I also have mortal filled compassion and wisdom. She was a friend of Thomas Wayne and I know that she will be there for Bruce when help is needed."

"You speak of Leslie Thompkins," he replied. "I remember seeing here in the alley comforting Bruce in front of mortals dressed in police uniforms. She is a good woman and one of the few in this forsaken place."

"Alfred was a good choice to be the boy's guardian. Bruce will need him throughout his journey, but he will also need you when the time is right for helping him embrace the fate he is destined to endure."

His eyes gleamed a little at her words. "My son must embrace his fear. Once he does and makes himself more than just a moral and devotes himself to the fate of protecting the souls of his city than he will become everlasting both in the darkness and in the light."

Athena gave him a simple nod, " He fears bats," her lips curved into a smirk with a secret smile. "Do you know that bats are protectors of the night?"

"Yes," he replied with a whisper, shrouding his face with his black cloak, spinning until dingy gray mist covered his entire shape and morphed him into a bat.

Athena shook her head, jumped into the air and instantly transformed into a beautiful snowy white owl, "Go and see your son, lord of the underworld. He needs his father more than you could ever know."

The bat gave a small nod of his head, and quickly soared into the shadows while the owl flapped her wings in the direction of Gotham's clock tower.

* * *

**Bruce Wayne**

* * *

In the dimness of his bedroom, Bruce sat on the floor, back pressed against the dress, smooth, graven chest bare as his wrinkled black shirt was slung over his shoulder. His long, wavy strands of dark chestnut draped over his razor-sharp cheeks. He calmed his mind, splitting up his soft arched lips and releasing tension from his torso.

He was angry, full of desperation and disarray. But his stubbornness would never permit him to unmask his thought to Alfred. He narrowed his eyes scorching hazel eyes to the red mark on his shoulder, a memento of the fire rescue, he made on impulse a few days earlier.

Now, he was sitting in the darkness, gazing at his mother's pearls clutched a tight fist, trying to throw the necklace in the rubbish bin, but his determination did not avail. He was lost in a delusional belief that it was simply a nightmare that he attempted to awaken from, every morning. The memories of that night in the alley rushed to play him in the vestiges of the guilt twisting inside him, causing his heart break into jaded pieces of remorse.

"I prepared some supper in case you're hungry, Master Bruce," Alfred said, he stood in the doorway looking at the harden teenager. "Will you at least try to eat something, sir."

"Not hungry," Bruce seethed out through clenched teeth. He glowered at Alfred with a fierce gaze of molten hazel underneath the messy bangs. "When my door is closed. Keep that way." He grunted out, jaw tensing enough for Alfred to stare at the definition of bone underneath youthful skin. "I just want you to stop worrying about me."

Few heartbeats later, Alfred entered the room, remaining firm in front of the young Wayne heir with his stern blue eyes narrowed at Bruce, "I'm not enduring to stand for you bloody attitude any longer. You're acting too careless with your life... When was the last time you went outside."

Bruce shrugged, "There's nothing out there for me, Alfred."

"You keep on hiding yourself in this house and pretend you're not living, sir." Alfred crouched down and expected at the ivories, he lifted his tender stare inside the teenager's eyes gazing at the darkness concealing the flecks of gold allowing grayish emerald hues to cut through the shadowy glare. "You need to move on from your grief and start living."

"I'll move on when Joe Chill finally pays," Bruce snarled, his lips tightening into a scowl. "Then I will have peace."

"Very well," Alfred rose from the floor, paced to the doorway, 'If you need anything I will be in the study."

Bruce waited for the door close, and then he frowned his face into his hands, allowing warm tears to slide through the folds of his fingers. 'It's my fault," he sobbed out a whisper, the pearls rubbed against his jaw. "My fault..."

Outside the window pane, a dark bat, Hades, hung upside down against the ice and looked at his depressed son, "I'm here, Bruce." he uttered in a despondent voice, curving his wing as he pretended to embrace the teenager. "Don't be afraid of your own power. Let the pain fade into the shadows and conquer your fear, my son."


	12. Chapter 12

**Mortality**

**Chapter 12**

* * *

**Phobos**

* * *

The sky was a canvas of gray slate as distant thunder roared, and bending trees swayed against the fierce air. In the middle of a encircle of daunting evergreens, a looming mansion stood against the darkness of the brewing storm. The walls struck with decay, vines covered window panes and stone crumbled to the restless ground. Ravens and crows perched on the chimney and rusted iron weather-vane that twisted with the flush of wind and darkness surrounding the estate made lifeless Gothic home moan and whine.

Deep down the stern structure, a frail dark haired teenager sat on the dust cover, steps, his hand stroked over the dark feathers of a wounded crow swaddled in a mantle. His crystal blue eyes shadowed with grim desires as he took heed to the endless screams of torture in the darkness. A devilish sneer curved across his delicate lips, he'd been immune to hear shrilling screams and squeals of horror. When he was a infant, those sounds of worthless souls being chained by fear became a somber lullaby to sleep as well.

He set his glasses against the span of his nose, and examined the bird, his unemphatic gaze raked for the flightless bird, as he took out a shard a glass underneath the wing and flipped to the wooden floor, listening the fragment shattered into bits. "There is nothing to fear," he spoke to the crow with bitterness in his low voice. "But fear itself my friend."

He cradled his lanky arm around the bird, and listened to the encroaching footsteps waft in the duskiness of the main hall. He involuntary craned his neck and stared at the tall, daunting presence standing inches from the stairs.

A thin man dressed in a dark suit, a flawless silver cane in a form of skull held his weight as he limped haughtily to the steps. He placed the end of the cane at his son." All creatures feel fear, Johnathan." He stated with a hiss in his baritone. "It's what makes them prey in this world." He narrowed his murky silver eyes to the teenager and quirk the edges of his thin lips into a malicious smile. "Fear makes the mortals of this realm weak and gives us power to control their emotions."

Johnathan looked up at his father, Phobos, the god of fear with a savage glint in his eyes, "It is rational or irrational for fear to be judged, father?"

Excellent question, Johnathan." Phobos replied with a nonchalant voice, and then he leaned his back against the stair railing.

"Excellent question, Johnathan." Phobos replied with a nonchalant voice, and then he leaned his back against the rails. " Phobophobia is like a disease of the mortal mind. Each time an anxiety rises in their veins, they become weak willed and easy to control under my power. Fear is the greatest weapon to use against enemies. You start with one simple threat and let keep on building until finally it consumes everything and makes madness fall into place." He narrowed his eyes down vividly at his offspring. "It's unpleasant to watch everything tear itself apart, but you'll become inmummed to the sight and sounds of horror."

"This emotion is not just the phobia of defective thoughts, but someone all mortals are born with?"

Phobos nodded simply, "Fear is birthed when mortal experience of witness something traumatic. For example, if a child falls into a well of snakes and struggles to get out, when he finally grasps the freedom those slithering reptiles become a phobia that will haunt him in his dreams. Nightmares." He sat down next to his son. "You're almost ready to unleash my power in a place that I've had my eye on for a long time. Thanks to my sister Eris, I have deals to make with her debased works of causing discord in this forsaken city that tastes the works of Hades almost every night."

Johnathan's eyes lit up at this, " I know which city you speak of, father." He spoke with a sadistic voice. "Gotham."

"Very good, my son" the god of fear answered with an impressed gleam in his darkened eyes. "The sanctuary of the insane as sparked much interest to my power, Johnathan. Once I manipulate my unpredictable sister into giving me full reign of the asylum, I will send you to make sure fear never dies in those prisons." He placed his bony hand on the teenager's thin shoulder. "Once you have everything in order, I will bestow everything you need to turn the mortals of Gotham into mindless drones of madness."

"What about the other immortal of Gotham, father," Jonathan spat, looking darkly into Phobos's silver eyes. "The son of Hades called Bruce Wayne?"

"I will give you the honor of giving the prince of the Underworld..."

"A taste of his own medicine?" Johnathan interrupted.

Phobos twisted his lips into a lethal sneer, " Sometimes your mind, even frightens me, Johnathan Crane."

Jonathan looked down at the crow, and smirked.


End file.
